Healing Springs
by WinterFrost15
Summary: Turlough has a discussion with the Doctor in the middle of the night.


1.

"Doctor!" Turlough called, as he entered yet another monotonous corridor of blank-faced sigils and whitewashed walls. His hair was unkempt, and his limbs were heavy with the awkward, dreamy haze of slumber that accompanies one's self upon first awareness. Yawning, he allowed himself a moment to stretch and regain his bearings, before setting off once again.

"Doctor, where are you?" he tried again, softer this time. But still there was no response, save for the hum of the TARDIS, an ever-present background of noise.

A somnolent glimpse at his wristwatch told him it was half past three in the morning - too early for even someone like the Doctor to be up and about, certainly. And yet, being startled into consciousness by strange noises in the night, Turlough knew without a doubt that someone (or, quite possibly, some_thing_) had disturbed this seemingly reasonable assumption of his. Could it be his friend the Time Lord, toiling restlessly away on some unknown project? Or maybe Tegan, stirring from another wicked dream, and seeking comfort in the light?

_This isn't my business,_ he thought, and halted in his tracks, stepping backward involuntarily as if from an electrified cable. _Besides, it probably _is_ just the Doctor, tinkering with the control console again. . .or Tegan, waking from a nightmare. I have no right snooping around like this, trying to find out what they're up to._

Yet a feeling deep in Turlough's stomach told him that something was wrong. Very wrong. The way the shadows moved before him, the slight tension of the air particles. . .the signs were there. Subtle, but undeniably present.

Then, suddenly, a black shroud fell over him. Everything was dark, chaotic.

Something was here, creeping through the framework.

Something sinister and _insane_. . .

Turlough gasped, and abruptly all was bright and calm as before. Swallowing, he let himself sink to the floor, so that the unsettling vision could pass. When he had recovered a short while later, he sighed and climbed back to his feet, dizziness and confusion all but vanished.

He was being childish, he decided as he continued his search for the Doctor. He was letting his silly fears get the better of him. There was nothing here that could pose any harm to his or the Doctor's or Tegan's safety. It was all the product of some lingering nightmare, perhaps, a sleep-deprived fantasy of his tired mind. Drawing in a long, soothing breath, Turlough dispelled all notions of a monster from his thoughts and pressed onwards, deeper into the heart of the TARDIS. He had to find the Doctor - that was his priority. He would know peace again once he was certain the Time Lord was safe.

But as he went on, twisting and turning his way like a double-jointed serpent, he quickly realized finding the Doctor would not be an easy task. The corridors seemed to swirl away into infinity, and even when he (occasionally) seemed to know where he was, he always managed to become hopelessly lost once again. It was not until he reached a passage with rows of doors on either side that the TARDIS felt inclined to guide him on the right path.

She deposited him, eventually, on the threshold of a room with an empty frame where a door _should_ have been. A fragrant, flowery sort of smell drifted to him from within, and like a moth he was drawn toward it.

The floor was wet beneath Turlough's bare feet. Looking down, he saw that the floor was glittering marble, its smooth, flawless surface reflecting the soft glow of the lamps overhead. The aroma of flowers, meanwhile, was growing steadily stronger, more overwhelming - but it was a pleasant sensation, certainly not a reason to leave this place.

Gazing up, he saw that there was an opening ahead, an archway leading to - what, exactly? A larger chamber, perhaps? Or maybe it was a garden. Nyssa had once told him of such a thing existing within the TARDIS. But there was something else, too. He could hear a roaring sound, almost like that of a waterfall. But it was softer than that, he realized - it was more a gentle, throbbing sibilation, than the growl of a thunderous torrent.

_Someone is taking a shower,_ Turlough realized. _Or bathing in some way, at the very least. But why do it this time of night, with no one around, no one awake? What are they afraid of. . .?_

He waited by the edge of the archway, fingers curled ever so slightly against the corner of thick marble. Who, or indeed _what_, would he find beyond the security of this passage? The Doctor? Tegan? Or maybe it was the monster he had foreseen long ago, in the beginning of this journey. Maybe it lay waiting for him, waiting for him to step into its trap, its ruse of peace and sincerity. Whatever he found, however, he felt that he had to know. He could not rest until he uncovered the truth.

So, with these troubling concerns in mind, Turlough took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and stepped out of hiding, to await his fate from the other side.

_more to come. . ._


End file.
